


It (A Bob's Burgers Parody)

by hothamandcheeseday



Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon), IT (2017)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hothamandcheeseday/pseuds/hothamandcheeseday
Summary: Several months after Andy Pesto mysteriously disappeared from sight on a rainy October afternoon, his older brother and his rag-tag group of rookies began to experience paranormal activities in their small town of Seymour's Bay.*i don't not own IT or Bob's Burgers. All rights go to their original owners





	1. Chapter 1

Jimmy Jr Pesto wasn't planning on spending his first day of his fall break sick in bed, but there he was, painting sealing wax on his brother's report card turned paper boat.

His brother, Andy, rested his head on the older boy's shoulder, clearly caring less about his influenza.

Jimmy Jr smiled at his handiwork, presenting the boat to Andy, who studied every rough around the edge on the paper entertainment.

"S..she's all ready, captain."

Andy cocked an eyebrow, noticing Jimmy Jr's bold handwriting spelling out 'S.S. Andy'.

"She?"

"You always called bo..boats a she."

"She. Thanks Jimmy Jr."

Even though he wasn't very affectionate towards other people, his brother was an exception.

Andy scampered out of his brother's room, paper boat in hand, a bright yellow slicker covering the mop of red hair covering the boy's head.

Jimmy Jr smiled at his brother, deeply wishing he could play out in the rain with Andy.

Little did he know, it would be the last time he ever saw him.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rain was almost like a dangerous ocean, twisting and curving with every open space of ground appearing.

Andy's galoshes stomped puddles on the concrete, chasing the paper boat around Ocean Avenue.

The neighborhood was never known for its rapid cleanliness, which is why it was never the most popular tourist attraction when people came to visit 'Seymour's Bay'.

But it didn't mean that the town wasn't a popular summer vacation resort, that was another story.

The paper boat swerved around the sidewalks, soaked in rainwater.

Andy kept the boat in plain sight, or so he tried to.

But then he landed smack down on the gravel, his head previously meeting the 'caution; sewer work ahead' sign.

Before he could even feel the incoming bruise on his forehead, Andy pushed his tiny frame off of the soaked ground, searching for where the boat had landed.

But alas, the keen nine year old was no match for speed, as he witnessed the 'S.S. Andy' sink into the deep abyss of the sewer.

"No!"

Andy dropped to his knees, his head peering into the sewer, as if to search for any sign of life of the boat.

But two bright glowing eyes appearing at the end of the sewer proved his theory.

"Hiya Andy."

Andy jumped back, clutching his slicker with a tiny, tan clenched fist.

The figure had bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, and had the closest depiction to a clown that it would leave Ronald McDonald in tears. 

The man had a bright red smile, almost sinister if Andy had compared him to a horror movie character his brother and threw jokes at during horror movie marathons over the summer.

Although Carrie might've not been the best movie to watch at 12:00 a.m.

The clown held up the boat, the words 'S.S. Andy' smeared by the dampness, a grin the size of the Cheshire cat's on his lips.

"What a nice boat! Do you want it back?"

Andy nodded, not that he was in fear, but because the clown was basically staring into his soul.

"I'm not supposed to take stuff from strangers."

"Well I'm Pennywise the dancing clown. Me, Pennywise, you, Andy. You, Andy, me Pennywise. Now we aren't strangers, are we Andy?"

Andy bit his lip, silently wishing he could just yank the boat out of the clown's hand, yet the clown was sort of freaking him out, but he would never admit it.

"You seem like a nice boy, I bet you have a lot of friends."

"Three, but my brothers my best-best."

"Where's he?"

"At home. Sick."

"I bet I could cheer him up. I'll give him a balloon. Do you want a balloon too Andy?"

Andy nodded, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"How'd you get down there?"

"A storm blew me away. Blew the whole circus away."

The clown's peppy grin turned sinister when his bottom lip dropped slightly.

"Do you smell the circus Andy?"

Andy leaned his head into the sewer, just enough to smell what the clown described as what a circus would smell like.

"There's peanuts, cotton candy, popcorn, is that your favorite Andy?"

Andy grinned, the clown began to giggle from the sewer.

"I like popcorn too, because it pops. Pop, pop, pop."

Andy giggled, but turned almost in fear when the clown looked him in the eyes, his bright grin dropping.

"I should get going now."

"Without your boat?"

Andy started to regret taking the boat out for a spin, his fist reached for the boat.

"Jimmy Jr's gonna kill you."

He reached the boat, but before he could escape, the clown grabbed his arm viciously.

His mouth split wide open, revealing almost thousands of teeth, before latching itself onto Andy's elbow.

He jumped back, now with only one arm on his body, the stump on his shoulder oozing blood at almost a deathly rate.

The red-head crawled his way further away from the sewer, blood mixing with the flood of rainwater.

But alas, the nine-year old was too slow for the clown, and was pulled down into the sewer.

The last thing he ever heard, was a choir of children singing a song as almost in a cult form.

"Oranges and lemons,"

"Say the bells of St. Clementz..."


	2. 2

Zeke Smith was never one to follow into his father's footsteps, knowing what had happened to him.

But his grandfather placed all the guilt onto the boy's shoulders, knowing it was too much for him to handle.

Ever since the incident 9 years ago, Zeke had always held a constant fear of loss, but the boy would never admit it, even to himself.

He never had much friends, most of them abandoning him as the school days went by, as Zeke remained homeschooled and trapped in a world of his own.

His grandfather's cattle ranch was his only 'escape' from his so called reality, but even then, it wasn't much of a getaway.

He spent the days assassinating cattle he had 'bonded' with, basically his only friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zeke's eyes were firmly focused on the gun, loaded with bullets and placed between a sheep's eyes.

The sheep was gentle and curious, clearly unfathomed by his new coming fate.

But he just couldn't shoot, he couldn't kill the sheep.

He felt the jerk of the gun, and a familiar hand ripping the weapon out of the boy's hand, shooting the sheep straight down.

Zeke refused to turn his head to meet the frustrating gaze of his grandfather, who had enough of the boy's antics.

"You need to start taking more responsibility around here. When your father was your age, he-"

"I'm not my dad, okay?"

Zeke kept a straight face, lessoning his chance of being a 'big baby' in front of the 'cool' teenagers and breaking down.

He had enough of that blubbering behind closed doors, and a pillow.

"Zeke, there are two places you can be in this world, you can be out here with the rest of us, or you can be in there. The only difference is that you don't know that you have the gun between your eyes until someone makes that choice for you."

Zeke sighed, fighting back tears, another word he wasn't aloud to repeat flooded his thoughts.

Author's note:  
Hello people. I'm really sorry that this chapter is a little short, but I will be posting the following chapter sometime today too.


	3. 3

Jimmy Jr, Louise and Rudy walked together, side by side, soon to be empty jansports clinging to their backs.

"There's a room filled with theatre people and Courtney has to take this super-theatrey audition and-"

"Wait, so how does it work?"

Rudy paused for a second, forgetting how Courtney explained her audition to him.

"They slice a tip of her boob off."

"But then she'll have nothing left."

Jimmy Jr and Louise felt Courtney snake through the space between them.

"Hey Court, what happens at your audition, it says they slice a tip of your bo-boob off."

Courtney's face turned bright red, Louise whistled from around Rudy's shoulder.

"Yeah and I think the theatre dudes gonna pull up your shirt, turn to the crowd and say 'where's the melons?'."

"Louise, it's not a cult."

"At the audition, I read from the script, make a foreword, and suddenly, my dad will become super proud of me."

"That's for damn sure, that's what your dad told me in bed last night."

Louise echoed her voice in a round of "Ohhhhs" as she raised her hand for a high-five, which Courtney ignored.

As the four walked across the busy corridor, Logan Bush, Darryl Whitman, Lenny Destefano, and Peter Pescadero eyed the group like a piece of candy.

Just as Tammy Larsen made her way to the bathroom, with a signature look on her face, signifying that she was mega-pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tammy entered the bathroom, a smug look on her overly-makeupped face.

The bottle blonde charged for the stall her and her posse knew Jocelyn, the supposed slut of the school, was smoking.

Tammy kicked the stall, a grunt escaping her lips, causing Jocelyn to jump and roll her eyes.

She motioned for Julie to stop filling the trash bag with water and trash left over to rot during Seymour's bay's excruciatingly hot summer, and creep into the other stall, waiting for the attack on Jocelyn.

"Are you alone in there, Jocelinch, or do you have the whole school in there with you, huh slut?"

Jocelyn sighed, pressing her cigarette against the stall door.

"I know your in there, little shit, I can smell you. No wonder you don't have any friends."

"What is it Tammy, am I a slut, or a little shit? Make up your mind."

Tammy scoffed, slightly getting more angrier.

"Your trash. We just wanted to remind you."

Jocelyn gazed up, noticing the full trash bag ready to be dumped on her.

She grabbed her backpack and cover her head with it, the wetness of the trash sliding off of her backpack and onto the floor.

"Haha, at least you'll smell better."

Jocelyn bit her lip, sighing as she dropped her backpack to the floor.

"Let's go girls."

And for once in her life, Jocelyn's eyes filled with tears, but it wasn't because of Tammy or Julie or anyone, it was because she was too weak, too insecure, to fight back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louise, Courtney, Jimmy Jr, and Rudy stood outside the busy school yard, emptying their backpacks into the garbage cans.

"Best feeling in the world."

"Trying tickling your pickle for the first time."

The gang peered over at Louise, who had spent her time around way too many boys to make sense.

But Rudy broke the uncomfortable silence.

"So, uh, what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

"I'm busy, I have training."

"Training?"

"Yeah, that Bakeneko samurai game down at the Wharf?"

"That's how you want to spend your summer, inside of an arcade?"

"Beats spending it inside of your dad."

Again, Louise raised her hand to high-five any of her friends that understood her racey joke, but Courtney pushed her hand down, clearly annoyed.

"Aren't we gonna go to the Wharf Bay?"

"The ba-ba-barrens."

"Right."

The group nodded in unison, clearly disappointed in the gang's activities for their first day of summer break.

"Tina Belcher's Mom."

The group turned their heads to face a cop car, just a few feet away from the school entrance.

In front of the cop car was a woman who looked haggard, far too haggard to appear the age she was, holding a missing sign, her eyes examining the schoolyard.

As if she was searching for hope.

"Does she really expect to see her at school?"

"I don't know, unless Tina Belcher has been hiding out in home ec for the past few weeks."

"You think they'll actually find her?"

"Yeah, in a ditch, all decomposed, covered in worms and maggots smelling like Rudy's moms's underwear."

"Dude, just shut up."

Jimmy Jr interrupted the quarrel.

"Sh-She's not dead, she's just mu-mu-missing."

Louise nodded quietly.

"Sorry Jimmy, she's missing."

Rudy rolled his eyes, the gang heading towards the road.

"You know, the barrens aren't that bad, who doesn't love splashing around in shitty water?"

Louise felt her backpack being pulled back, colliding with Courtney, the two collapsing onto the grass.

Lenny took ahold of Courtney's ponytail, wedging her light purple ribbon between his fingers.

"Nice noose, lesbian."

He threw the ribbon into the oncoming bus' window.

"Fucking losers."

Peter belched in Rudy's face, who winced as if in pain.

The gang of boys, often referred to as the asshole club, swaggered away.

"S-s-sock It Bush!"

Jimmy Jr known he shouldn't have done that, but his instinct told him to fight back.

Logan turned around, a smirk on his face.

"Wh-what was that? Ji-ji-jimmy?"

The taller, lankier boy got in Jimmy's face, biting his lip.

"You know you got a free ride this year because of your brother, that all ends now."

Logan turned his attention to the police officer, who was watching Logan like a hawk.

"Summers gonna be a hurt train, for you and your faggot friends."

The teenager licked the palm of his hand, sliding it down the Pesto boy's face.

The gang watched as the asshole's club drove away in their convertible, not even looking back at their victims.

"Wish he'd go missing, wouldn't mind doing it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you gonna let me go by or not?"

Gene, startled, turned around, his eyes focusing on Jocelyn, who was standing in front of him.

"Oh...I'm..sorry...I'll just."

The boy's bike slid out of his hand, he dropped his project onto the concrete, his headphones being the only thing not on the ground.

Jocelyn rolled her eyes at the struggling boy.

"Logan and his goons are on the other side of the school."

"Oh I wasn't-"

"Everyone knows he's looking for you."

Gene looked away, blushing slightly.

"Whatcha listening to?"

Jocelyn pulled off his headphones and placed them on her head, closing her eyes for a more second before opening them and smiling brightly.

"New kids on the block?"

"I don't even like them! I just-"

"Wait, your the new kid right? Now, I get it."

"There's nothing to get."

Jocelyn placed the headphones back on Gene's head, giggling to herself.

"I'm just messing with you. I'm Jocelyn Vanderbilt."

"Yeah I know that, because, uh, we're in the same class, Social studies. I'm Gene, but pretty much everyone calls me-"

"The new kid. Well, Gene, there are worse things to be called. Let me sign this."

Jocelyn pulled the yearbook peaking out of Gene's opening pocket in his green jansport, pulling a pen out of her jean pocket.

She let the pen cap rest between her teeth as she wrote out her name in, gorgeous (as Gene described it as), handwriting.

Have a great summer new kid on the block ;) -Jocelyn Vanderbilt

Gene stared at her, mesmerized by her beauty.

Jocelyn handed back the yearbook, winking as she turn into the empty schoolyard.

"Stay cool, Gene from Soc class."

"Yeah, you too Jocelyn."

"Stay tough, new kid on the block."

Gene smiled to himself at the new nickname, staring at Jocelyn, who was halfway to the edge of the school grounds.

"Please don't go girl..that's the name of another...new kids on the block song."

Gene trudged away, his bike to his right, his Seymour's Bay history project tucked between his left armpit, and his headphones, still blaring 'new kids on the block' dragging beside him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jimmy Jr walked along the sidewalk of Ocean Avenue, his bike, nicknamed Silver, rose alongside him, the boy stuttered up a storm.

"He..thr-thrusts his ha-hands against the po-po-posts and sti-still insists he se-sees the gho-gho-gho..shit!"

He crept into the garage of his house, now creepily empty.

His dad turned his attention towards his son, a firm expression on his face.

"I thought we talked about this."

At first, Jimmy Jr had no idea what his father, now always tense, was taking about.

But after he motioned towards the tunnels, Jimmy Jr realized his secret.

"Before you say anything, just let me show you."

The boy ran over towards the tunnels, placing a small figurine in the opening.

The figure slid down the pipes, before ultimately ending up at the left container, a small amount of water splash out with it.

"The barrens, It's our only-"

"He's gone Jimmy, he's dead!"

Jimmy Jr was startled, almost to the point of tears, taking a step back.

"Take this down before your mother sees this. And ask if you can borrow my stuff next time!"

His dad ripped down a map off of the wall, stomping out of garage and slamming the door shut.

Jimmy Jr turned his attention over to the hamster cage in front of the tunnels.

"I guess you ge-get your tunnels ba-back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm not an orphan. My mother and father left a note saying they loved me and they were coming back for me."

Doug Wheeler sighed from the upper level of the auditorium, pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You need to start studying, Courtney. How's it gonna look, New Jersey's finest showman's daughter can't even preform a line correct. Take the script to my office, obviously your not using it."

Courtney slammed the pages shut, rolling her eyes as she exited the oh so familiar stage, and left for her dad's office.

She had been so accommodated with the auditorium itself, having spent many years preforming in little side-plays her father forced her into.

But she the only thing she wasn't accommodated with was her father's office.

It wasn't just the room itself, it was the painting on the left wall, facing the undusted window.

The painting was of a disfigured women, nicknamed Judith the flute lady by Doug, who claimed she was a prime woodwind in the original performance of 'welcome to the club'.

She was like the Mona Lisa, eyes following her wherever Courtney ventured to in the office.

She always shielded her eyes from the horrifying painting, but every so often, took a peak at the painting.

Today was just one of those days.

Courtney had successfully placed the script among all of her father's other scripts from previous musicals on the wooden bookshelf.

Then all the sudden, she heard a loud 'clunk'.

She turned her gaze to the other side of the room, where the painting of Judith sat face down on the hardwood floor.

Now if Courtney was around her father at this time, he would've nudged her to pick it up and to stop being a big baby.

But luckily, Doug was nowhere to be found.

Courtney's converse dug into the Shay carpet until they hit the hardwood.

She bent down carefully to pick up the oil painting, and to place it back on its hook in the office.

If she hung the painting back up, she noticed something very peculiar about though familiar photo.

Judith was nowhere to be found.

Courtney shivered as she heard faint flute music coming from the other side of the office.

As she turned around, it was almost as if the paining was a picture book, and if Judith wasn't real.

Judith crept through the darkness to reach Courtney, a bright smile through her razor-sharp teeth.

Courtney immediately sprinted out the door, slamming it shut firmly as she went to meet her dad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Out of all the places in Seymour's Bay, Gene felt the most comfortable inside the Wharf Of wonders library.

It was the safest place away from Logan and his rookies, knowing that they weren't into the history of the town.

But Gene was, and he knew a lot more than Logan would like to admit.

So the boy kept to himself, his nose buried in some kind of book.

Except today was different.

Gene had bought a postcard of a lighthouse, similar to the one he built the project on, and pondered up a poem.

You're hair is fire  
January embers  
My heart burns there too

\- You're Secret Admirer <3

As Gene admired his handiwork, the librarian, who had retrieved a history book for the boy, slammed the book onto the table and startled him.

"Isn't it summer. Aren't you supposed to be having fun with your friends?"

Gene sighed, the librarian realizing her mistake, before turning and leaving.

He slid the book over to him, words spelling out 'history of Seymour's Bey" as an emblem on the cover.

Gene opened the book, flipping through the pages, until he reached his destination.

Easter Egg Hunt Catastrophe Of 1908

He read along the passage, taking note of the details.

Gene noticed a small excerpt on the next page, a photo of almost a hundred people gathered around a tree.

It was unclear what they were looking at, but Gene immediately wanted to know.

He began flipping the pages over and over, the photo zooming in onto the tree.

Until he landed on the page that explained it all.

There was a head in the tree.

A young boy's head.

Hanging.

By a branch.

In the town square.

Unnoticed for months.

Gene slammed the book shut, almost scared for life by the horrifying image.

But his eyes deceived him once again as the sound of a broken music box began to ring through the walls of the library.

Gene turned around to notice a stray red balloon effortlessly floating around the room.

As the music box became distorted, Gene stood up from his chair and followed the balloon, until he came upon an Easter egg.

The egg was smoking, as if it was a cheap cigarette, and was placed right in the doorway of the librarian's office.

Gene crept towards the egg, placing in his hand, before noticing another egg, placed a few feet behind it.

Egg after egg after egg, Gene reached the records room, at the bottom of the library.

His eyes wandered the dimly lit room, only lit by single cheap bulb.

Until heavy footsteps switched his attention to the staircase, where unfamiliar feet stood at the top of the stairs.

The figure slowly hobbled down the steps, taking each one at a time.

Gene began to notice the figure's outfit, it was clearly a boy, probably an intern, the librarian had mentioned she needed some help during the summer.

But Gene assumed the worse when he caught a full boy glimpse of the boy.

The boy had no head.

It was the boy from the photos.

Except his head.

His head was gone.

The boy's hands held eggs, very loosely, before dropping them as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

Gene breathed heavily, realizing the boy was only a few feet away from him.

Immediately, the boy sprinted after Gene, his arms flailing around at his sides.

Gene, being the most unathletic in years, tried his best to resist turning around to stare at the ungodly creature.

"Eggboy!"

He turned around to stare at the figure, Gene's eyes filled with terror.

In place of the inexistent head was that of a clowns, white paint covering over its demonic face, two long streaks of red paint scraped from his lips up to above his eyes, huge fangs peaking out from his red lips.

Gene whipped his head around, rushing around the shelves, until he rammed straight into the librarian.

"What on earth are you doing?!"

Gene didn't even hesitate to offer to pick up the papers the librarian had dropped, he just sprinted right up the stairs, completely scarred over what he had just witnessed.

The boy, his backpack filled with the books latched onto his back, exited the library, hoping to find a short cut home.

"Where you off to, tits?"

Gene flashed around, into the familiar gazed of Logan Bush, who had his body leaned up against the Seymour's Bay wharf monument.

He tried to escape, but was caught by Lenny DeStefano, who pulled the boy by his shirt.

The asshole club dragged Gene off to the wharf bridge, a place where no adults were present.

"Leave me alone!"

"Help!"

"Somebody?! Please!"

The boys taunted him, ripping his shirt and his backpack, yelling harsh insults at him.

Lenny pulled a can of Farrah Faucet hairspray and a lighter out of his jean pocket, shaking up the can.

"We could do his hair, like Michael Jackson."

Lenny sprayed the can, a bright flame blazing above Gene's head.

Logan rammed up to Gene, who flailed his arms around.

"Get off me!"

A light blue car approached, stopping for only a second, the couple shaking their heads in disappointment, before driving off.

The only thing Gene remembered seeing, was a red balloon floating up in the backseat, before feeling Logan's fist against his nose.

Logan whipped his switch blade out of his pocket, Gene feeling the burn of the knife piercing into his abdomen, the letter 'L' appearing with oozing red blood.

"Woah, woah, Logan, stop."

"SHUT UP! I'm going to carve my whole name into this cottage cheese!"

Gene kicked Logan in the chest, falling backwards and into the woods.

Logan pursued the guys to follow him, jumping down into the leaves.

Gene made his getaway, feet ahead of the asshole club, blood leaking from the L.

Logan stopped dead in his tracks, his hands scattering the leaves.

"My dad's switch knife! My old mans gonna kill me!"

Lenny chased on, the can of hairspray and the lighter ready to aim at any time.


End file.
